


Sinful Suits

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Assistant Draco, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Established Relationship, H/D Owlpost Holiday Fest, M/M, Minister of Magic Harry Potter, Office Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-20 15:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13720764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: "Everyone's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man."





	Sinful Suits

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted January 2016 for HD-owlpost](http://hd-owlpost.livejournal.com/130951.html)

A three piece suit. He was actually wearing a three piece suit.  
  
Harry was going to kill him.  
  
He grit his teeth and tried to focus his attention on the Italian Ambassador— nodding along and making polite conversation where appropriate— but it was no good. Try though he might, his eyes kept straying back to Draco Malfoy, clad in that thrice damned suit.  
  
The black fabric contrasted with his pale skin and blond hair, catching the attention of every eye in the Ministry ballroom. The cut was perfect for his lean, tapered frame and the trousers did nothing to hide the curve of his arse. Paired with Malfoy’s refined features and sharp grin— the effect was just shy of devastating.  
  
Already, Harry could sense the unrest brewing, eyes lingering on Malfoy just a sight too long, interested murmurs, and quick glances. A crowd was gathering around him now— men and women, seemingly drawn to the striking vision that had interrupted the dull evening.  
  
Harry growled under his breath as his assistant preened in the attention. Someone reached out and brushed Malfoy’s arm. A woman laughed and shifted just a bit closer to him. Malfoy’s grin was shark like and his eyes met Harry’s for a split second. Then he was back, engaging his adoring public with sly smiles and clever comments.  
  
The restlessness in Harry’s chest stoked and flared to an all out inferno when some bloke from International Affairs dared to place his hand on the small of Malfoy’s back. Malfoy had the audacity to smile at him and when his eyes flicked to Harry again, it shifted to a challenging smirk.  
  
So, that’s how it was.  
  
Harry made his terse excuses and left the Italian Ambassador in Hermione’s capable hands. Her eyes flitted from him to Malfoy and her lips twitched slightly, but she didn’t say a word as she led the ambassador off. Harry waited until she was out of sight...  
  
...and then he went out to hunt.  
  
“Minister Potter,” some socialite tittered in his ear. “What a delightful affair! The Ministry has outdone itself yet again.”  
  
Harry smirked, his eyes still trained on Malfoy. “We’re only as good as our finest employees,” he replied coolly. Malfoy raised an eyebrow and lifted a hand to adjust his tie. Harry’s eyes flicked at the movement and that’s when he noticed it. Malfoy was sporting a red silk tie with thin gold stripes cut across the length.  
  
Gryffindor colours.  _Harry’s_  colours.  
  
That little  _bastard._  
  
Harry took a deep breath, but the sight of Malfoy in  _that_  suit wearing  _his_  colours was almost too much. He could barely focus anymore.  
  
He had to get them out of here before he did something that ended up on the front page of the  _Prophet_.  
  
“Mr Malfoy, I’d like to see you in my office,” he found himself saying. “We have a few things to...discuss before next week’s meeting with the Romanian delegation.”  
  
Malfoy had the nerve to blink innocently. “Right now?” he questioned, widening his eyes for effect. “But surely you’re needed here, Minister. Your speech is due in five minutes and...”  
  
Harry took a step towards him, pleased when Malfoy faltered a bit. “Cancel it,” he growled.  
  
Malfoy’s eyes flashed with sudden challenge. “That’s a breach of protocol,” he replied, his voice low and his smile taunting. “I really must advise against this.”  
  
Harry’s eyes drifted down Malfoy’s body, taking in the suit and the way it clung to that sinful body. His mouth watered and he had to fight to keep a stoic, unaffected expression on his face. “Your advice is noted. And ignored.” He leaned in with a smile, ducking his head to whisper in Malfoy’s ear. “My office, clothes off, bent over my desk. You have ten minutes. If you’re not  _exactly_  the way I want you when I get in there, I’ll make sure you regret it.”  
  
There was no defiance this time. Malfoy’s lashes fluttered, his throat bobbed with an audible swallow. Harry smirked and snagged the wine glass from his slim fingers, draining it in one go. Malfoy was still gaping at him and Harry gave him a stern look. “Did I stutter?” he demanded.  
  
His lips curled in a grin when Malfoy shook his head and hurried off, heading away from the party and to the office with quick, purposeful strides.  
  
Harry chuckled and handed his glass over to a passing waiter, before following.  


****

“Ah! Damn it, Potter! Do you have to be so rough?!”  
  
Harry just growled and quickened his relentless thrusting, dealing a smack to Malfoy’s pert bottom while he was at it. “That’s what you get for taunting me all evening,” he retorted. “Showing up to the party in that ridiculous, over the top suit and letting everyone touch you...”  
  
Malfoy turned his head and scowled at him. The effect was somewhat ruined by his lidded eyes and the tie still dangling around his neck. “You can never be overdressed,” he informed Harry indignantly. “Or overeducated,” he added as an afterthought.  
  
“As usual, your priorities are right on track,” Harry groused, angling his next thrust  _just so_  and smirking at Malfoy’s garbled moan. He stroked a pale thigh in reward and changed angles, making sure to hit the spot. “Besides, you know what it does to me when you wear Muggle suits.”  
  
Malfoy moaned and thrust his hips out again, and Harry abruptly decided that he was done talking. The next few minutes were nothing but sweat slicked skin, breathy moans and the glorious sensation of that warm, wet hole clenching around him. He dug his fingers into Malfoy’s hips—hard enough to bruise— and picked up the pace.  
  
Malfoy’s groans ascended to sharp, high cries. His hips stuttered once, twice and then his whole frame arched as he came over Harry’s desk with a shout. Harry growled, lost in a heady rush of lust and triumph, as Malfoy clenched around him in a vice. It was enough to send him over the edge. One thrust, two...another one, and his climax hit, sending him reeling and collapsing on Malfoy with a throaty moan.  
  
“Merlin,” Harry groaned, when he finally figured out how his limbs worked again, “why do I put up with you?”  
  
That got him an indignant jab in the ribs. “I’m the best assistant you've ever had, Minister Potter,” Malfoy informed him. “And don’t you forget it.”  
  
“Perish the thought,” Harry replied dryly. On a whim, he ducked his head and kissed the obnoxious prat— a slow, languorous kiss that set his nerves tingling. Malfoy moaned in his mouth and Harry’s cock jerked with renewed interest.  
  
“So, Best Assistant Ever,” he said when Malfoy finally allowed him to break away, “I reckon we should head back to the party soon.”  
  
“Must we?” Malfoy groaned and stretched his long limbs, effectively capturing Harry’s attention again. Merlin help him, but this was  _exactly_  why he put up with Malfoy. One of these days it was going to blow up in his face, Harry just knew it. But when Malfoy looked up at him with dark eyes and swollen lips, he really couldn’t give a damn. “I’m having fun here,” Malfoy protested, trailing his fingers down Harry’s hip in lazy circles.  
  
Harry’s lips twitched but he kept his expression blank. “Well, if you insist on staying,” he drawled, “we might as well get some work done.”  
  
Malfoy’s brow arched down in a scowl. “Work?” he echoed disdainfully.  
  
Harry gave him a playful spank and sat up. “That report for the Romanian delegation isn’t going to write itself, you know,” he admonished. “Come on. Up you get, I need this desk. And get me a new quill.”  
  
He had to fight back a chuckle as Malfoy got up huffily, practically throwing a quill at him before perching back on the desk to sulk.  
  
Harry was tempted to yank his chain for a few more minutes, but he was far more eager to keep the fun going. “This is going to take a while,” he informed Malfoy, pretending to give the half finished report a look over. “I trust you’ll see to all my needs while I’m busy running the country?”  
  
Malfoy frowned in confusion as Harry settled back in the chair and splayed his thighs. A pale eyebrow rose at the unmistakable intent. Then Malfoy’s lips curled in a smirk and he slid under the desk gracefully. Harry’s cock jerked as his assistant stared up at him with those dark eyes and swollen lips.  
  
“At your service, Minister,” Malfoy purred.  
  
Harry groaned as his cock was engulfed in warm, wet heat once more.  
  
Oh, it felt  _good_  to be the boss.


End file.
